Bolt of Blue
by lennoxism
Summary: A set of inter-connected one-shots centered around Ironhide and Will Lennox, based on the fanfic100 challenge on LiveJournal. Rating may go up.
1. Beginnings

**Author's Notes: **Series of Ironhide/Will one-shots. This is the first, obviously. Stole the prompts from the fanfic100 community on LiveJournal, but I don't have an LJ, so…

This 'shot is set after the first movie, and before the second one. This is my first time writing Will and Ironhide, and my first time writing fanfiction in general. I hope it's at least _slightly_ in character!

**Disclaimer: Transformers isn't mine.**

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><p><strong>.b e g i n n i n g s<strong>

"And you are?"

Will Lennox looked up at an alien robot, hands on his hips as he did so. Granted, it wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence to talk to something more than five times bigger than you, but he was a _soldier_. Soldiers expected the unexpected, didn't they?

The robot (or was it _Auto_bot? Was there a difference? Did it matter?) swiveled around to look at him, and Will found himself holding his breath as those blue eyes raked in his form. He felt that awkward moment when it seemed as if he was being scanned, which was likely, now that he turned and saw Opti-something-or-other giving that Wit-something-something kid the same look; and then the giant robot thing kneeled so they were somewhat at eye level.

Will tried not to dwell on the fact that the thing's face was almost as big as him.

"Ironhide." The voice sounded remarkably human, despite the fact that it came from a huge-ass metal being, and Will had to stop himself from looking bewildered. Ironhide would probably shoot him. Opti-with-the-flame-decals (he'd get the hang of these Autobot names one of these days, he swore to God!) had warned Will of his guardian's temper… and his ability to bring dangerous alien weaponry out of practically nowhere.

And, well, Will didn't want to be blasted into oblivion.

"Nice to meet you." Will held out his hand as he said this, but stopped, pulling it back. Chances are that his hand would have been crushed, and that was just… he could barely stifle the wince that danced on the edge of his tongue at the mere thought of it. "I'm William Lennox," he said, proud of himself for not having let those words turn into the tiny sound of pain. "But you can call me Will."

Something that might have been an eyebrow arched on Ironhide's face.

"… Your birthname is William Lennox, is it not?" Ironhide clarified. Will thought it a little unnecessary, but he nodded his head, anyway. "Right," he provided. "William Lennox. But, I reiterate, you can call me Will."

Was Ironhide squinting at him? Will couldn't tell. Why didn't Autobots have eyelids or the under-parts that Will never quite knew the name of?

"If your birthname is William Lennox, then why must I refer to you as 'Will'? It is like telling you my name is Ironhide, and referring to me as ''Hide'," the 'bot remarked, and his mouth-thing (Jesus, he was going to need some Alien Biology 101 classes, stat) turned into some robotic frown. Nevermind the fact that Will was just about to call him 'Hide, too. If Ironhide didn't understand the simple concept of nicknames, then Will wasn't going to bet his life on a gamble as to whether or not the weapons specialist would put a cannon to his face for calling him a one-syllable name.

Why did the kid have to get the cute, yellow, non-violent and possibly less dangerous guardian?

"It's a nickname," Will finally answered, and Ironhide's eyes (or were they optics?) flickered in what might have been considered a blink. "When you're fond of someone, you call them by a nickname. Sometimes, though, they tell you to call them by that when you first meet."

"I do not think I am fond of you." Ironhide's statement was blunt and to the point.

"Don't worry," Will promised. "The feeling's mutual."

For one reason or another, he couldn't help the tiny smile that flitted on his face. And for some other reason, he couldn't help but notice that Ironhide was smiling, too.

"It is good to know my human's processors are not completely fried," Ironhide said, and Will took that to mean something close to 'hey, I think I'm going to end up liking you after a while, and maybe I'll even call you Will one day'. The captain shrugged his shoulders, running his fingers through his hair, but the small smile that had been on his face curved up almost immediately into a grin.

"And it's good to know you're not just a trigger happy pyromaniac."

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><p>It took a few death threats before Will could finally call Ironhide by a one-syllable nickname.<p>

But, to be honest, Will thought it was perfect.


	2. Middles

**Author's Notes: **I'm not necessarily very proud of how this one turned out, but I hope you guys enjoy it, anyway.

Thank you, also, for all the positive feedback! I'm relieved that my writing isn't terrible.

**Disclaimers: Transformers belongs to Hasbro.**

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><p><strong>.m i d d l e s<strong>

"I don't know anything about you," Will said one day as he sat in Ironhide's driver's seat, the truck driving itself. Something like a grunt drifted from the 'bot's speakers, and Will shifted so that he could look up at the rearview mirror. "I mean, yeah, we're partners, and you're my guardian, and you're a huge-ass alien robot, and you like guns, but other than that… _zilch_. How old are you? How long've you known Optimus Prime?" Will was fairly proud of himself for actually remembering the Autobot leader's name this time. "Got a sparkmate? Do you like pizza? Do Cybertro-whatchamacallits have pizza?"

Ironhide sounded almost exasperated. "You humans seem to have the tendency to ask too many questions."

Will couldn't help the grin that bloomed on his face, and he shrugged his shoulders. "You Autobots seem to have the tendency not to tell too much about yourselves," he shot back, placing his hands behind his head as he leaned into the seat. Did the fact that the steering wheel was moving by itself scare him? No, not really. A week with the robots was a huge eye-opener.

Will even knew their names. Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet… and Ironhide, of course; who he could now refer to as ''Hide'. Optimus had been surprised when Will told him that he gave the Topkick a nickname, and Will had to admit that he'd been surprised, too. Still, as he leaned forward to grip Ironhide's wheel (and not quite moving it), he looked up at the rearview mirror again. It was at this point that his guardian spoke.

"We have told you about our planet, our structure—" Will zoned out of Ironhide's little rant-answer (_our weaponry, our intelligence, why we're here,_ yadda yadda), and had to resist the urge to wince guiltily. He hadn't listened to that seven hour _Aliens For Dummies_ lesson when Ratchet gave it, but that was probably because he was too busy drawing on the inside of his forearm with a pen. "—and, Captain Lennox, I'm aware that you did not digest anything our medic spoke of. The only reason you do not know enough about me is because you did not _listen_."

The soldier gave the wheel a little squeeze. "Okay, fine, so it's partially my fault— ("_Partially_?" Ironhide interrupted) but it's not the technical stuff I'm interested in. 'Hide," and he had to pause because Ironhide made a disgruntled noise, "you're my _guardian_. Mi amigo. My partner-in-crime. I want to know about _you_."

For a few long moments, there was nothing but silence, and Will's smile slowly faded as his brows knitted together. Did Ironhide _really_ decide to just continue the drive without talking? Was he actually giving Will the silent treatment? Frowning, the captain opened his mouth, but before anything could come out he felt the jerking of the truck; and he was thankful for the seatbelt that kept him from sliding and hitting his head on the window. Ironhide swerved off the road and onto the ground, the surface now less smooth and causing Will to bounce a little. The scenery moved around him, a little faster than earlier, and the soldier concluded that Ironhide was _definitely_ breaking a few speed limits. Will was half-convinced that he would end up smashed against the backseat, at this rate.

"What are you—" Will began, but stopped as Ironhide skidded to a halt and opened the driver's seat door.

"Out," Ironhide grumbled. Will stared at the rearview mirror in confusion, but Ironhide removed the seatbelt himself. "_Out_." This time, it was commanded with a more firm tone, and Will gulped as he slid out of the truck and pressed his high-tops into the ground.

He turned to face the Autobot, but all he got was a door slammed in his face, and even more silence. Will pressed a hand to his forehead, and dragged it down the length of his face. Then he rubbed his chin, in a way that almost seemed like a tribute to Santa Claus.

Was it _that_ time of the month? (Could mechs even _have_ that time of the month? Did gender matter? Did they bleed blood, or oil? Was Ironhide actually a girl?

Ironhide. A girl. It would certainly explain his capacity for rage. PMS was a bitch.)

"… Did I piss you off?" Will asked, tentatively. The truck shuddered, before transforming completely, and Ironhide stood there before the soldier in his bi-pedal form. Electric blue eyes flickered slightly as his brow-ridges (and, of course, these were simply terms Will attributed to the guy, not the actual _term_) arched downward. Then, unexpectedly, Ironhide moved to sit on the grass. Will was surprised at how wonderfully the robotic joints moved, how they didn't make creaking noises as the weapons specialist sat Indian-style, but he had to push these thoughts away as he sat, as well.

"Your questions," the Autobot stated, moving his hand in a gesture that was remarkably human. Will blinked, slowly.

"What?" he asked intelligently.

"Your questions," Ironhide repeated, though it was obvious that Will's inability to grasp two words had irritated him somewhat. Will blinked up at him one more time, but Ironhide didn't seem to be joking. Then again, all things considered, Ironhide probably didn't even understand the complexities of 'jokes' yet.

"Seriously?" Will asked, just to make sure. Ironhide made a very human gesture of rolling his eyes, or at least flickering his optics in the same type of illusion, and nodded his head. "Yes, Lennox," he replied, dryly. "I am almost always serious."

It didn't take a genius to figure _that_ out.

A tiny smile made its way onto the captain's face, and he crawled so he was sitting directly in front of Ironhide, who bent over to look Will in the eye again. It was so much like their first meeting, that Will would have laughed.

"How old are you?" Will started, deciding with a simple question with a simple answer. Ironhide shrugged his shoulders in a perfect imitation, optics flickering as Will hypothesized that the mech was calculating.

"Twenty-two vorns," Ironhide answered. "It is equivalent to a little over a thousand and two hundred human years." Will made a low whistling noise at this.

"What's a vorn?" he continued, resting his elbow on his thigh and his chin on his palm. Ironhide rolled his eyes. "Ratchet spoke of this during your lesson, Captain," he replied dryly, blue eyes looking a little disappointed. Will cleared his throat. "And you know I didn't listen," the human elaborated. "So you shouldn't be surprised that I'm asking you, anyway." Will's expression grew a little smug, but Ironhide hardly looked impressed.

"A vorn is, to the Cybertronian race, what a year is to humans. If I were a _Homo sapien_, then I would be a few years older than Samuel Witwicky." Will made a tiny 'ahh' noise of comprehension, and as he opened his mouth to comment on it, Ironhide pointed a cannon at him, eyes narrowing.

"Do not say that this means you are somehow older than me and therefore require being at a higher level. I only take orders from my Prime."

Will pouted. Ironhide was beginning to know him _well_.

"Okay," the captain relented, holding both hands up with his palms to the Autobot. "Okay, I won't. But I sure as _hell_ am thinking it."

Ironhide grunted.

Will smiled.

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><p>In the course of three hours, Will found out a number of things.<p>

First, he found out that Ironhide had once been under Megatron while the latter and Optimus (without the Prime title at that point) had run Cybertron. It had been a huge surprise to Will, and he'd commented rather bluntly that Ironhide had technically been Megatron's bitch; to which Ironhide had pointed various weapons at his fleshy form.

"But I like you better as an Autobot," Will had hastily added, and with another of Ironhide's assorted grunts, the mech seemed to have been temporarily appeased.

The second thing Will discovered was the fact that Ironhide was homesick. Though not outwardly stated, it was in the way that he described his planet that Will realized it.

"Cybertron was unlike any other planet, though we were similar to the Greeks in terms of there being tribes instead of one unit," Ironhide had said, wistfully. Will had come to the conclusion that it would generally be the same explanation Ratchet had given, but the way Ironhide told it was different. It might have been the fact that the weapons specialist spoke of it with a gentle tenderness that Will close to never experienced, or the fact that Ironhide seemed to have been smiling. "As a sparkling, I knew that the military was my calling. I would build weapons and play war, often mixing in with the 'bots who were mature enough to actually fight. Unlike your structures, Cybertronian creations did not break so easily, and you could fight without holding back. Primus had blessed my birth to be in the Cybertronian equivalent of Sparta, so you could only imagine how I grew up."

"Sparta? So you threw babies into pits?" Will joked. Ironhide had looked somewhat horrified at the mere thought of it, so the captain shut up and decided that Cybertronian culture was different.

Third, Ironhide told him that, no, Cybertronians did not have pizza—and if they did, the mech probably wouldn't like it very much.

"All that _oil_," was Ironhide's only explanation as to why. "It is only meant to lubricate us. I cannot imagine ingesting it. And humans with prolonged exposure to this 'pizza' seem to have health problems and large amounts of fat. I do not think I want to be enlarged. It would make me an easier target for enemy cannons."

Of course, Will didn't say that Ironhide was already a pretty frickin' _huge_ target.

The fourth thing Will found out was that Ironhide's favorite part of earth was the sky.

"Why?" Will asked, at this point having climbed onto the Autobot's shoulder to lean against him. Ironhide hadn't stiffened, or gotten mad, so he decided that it was mostly safe. Ironhide was quiet, but when he spoke again, Will's attention had definitely been captured.

"It's beautiful." There was a pause, then. "We did not have blue sky on Cybertron, just… dark atmosphere. I almost envy your race for having such a gift, but at the same time I think the humans take it for granted, allowing themselves to fill it with smoke." Ironhide's voice had been a little softer as he said this, and Will made a tiny 'huh' noise. "I do not want your race to become like ours: perishing because we did not appreciate what we had before it was sent into space only to be lost forever."

Will moved as if to ask something, but Ironhide beat him to it.

"The sun is going down," the Autobot had said. Will blinked, tilting his head so he was looking up at Ironhide's pensive face. The soldier tilted his head back, then, making sure to hold on to the complex plating of Ironhide's armor as he looked towards the 'bot's favorite part of the planet. The sky flitted with warm colors, and the orb that was the sun descended to the ground.

"This is my favorite picture of the sky," Ironhide had mentioned.

And, unspoken between the two of them, Will knew that Ironhide had added _'and now I have you to share it with'_.

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><p>It was nightfall when they returned to base, and when Will got out of the truck, he stretched. Brown eyes shifted to look at the GMC Topkick, and he lightly pat Ironhide's hood with something that might have been affection.<p>

The engine rumbled in response.

"Thanks for that," Will finally said.

"For what?" Ironhide inquired, and Will could already imagine a brow ridge raising in an attempt at comprehension. The soldier shrugged his shoulders.

"For sharing."

The engine revved for a quick moment, and then words had drifted from Ironhide's speakers.

"We are in the middle of a war, Captain Lennox. I will take advantage of every moment of peace I can," he reported. Will's smile reached his eyes, and they crinkled around the edges as he gently rubbed a circle in the hood.

"Take advantage of them, huh?" Will clarified, amused.

Ironhide probably would have nodded. "All of them."

When Will left the truck in the hangar and got ready for actual sleep, getting into his bunk hadn't quite seemed the same anymore.

He lay there, dreaming with his eyes open; of orange-colored skies, of pizza, war, and giant alien robots.

Of smiles. Questions. Answers. Cannons.

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><p>For someone in the middle of a war, Will didn't feel so alone.<p> 


End file.
